


Couldn’t Miss This One This Year

by Bittersweet_in_Boston



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A very Happy ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brooklyn, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Christmas, Christmas Wrapping, Couples Costumes, Cranberry Sauce, Fluff and Humor, Fucking giant robot locusts, Fucking giant robot spiders, He’s not “my guy” Tony, It’s just lunch, M/M, Melancholy, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Pining, They keep just missing each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28270431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittersweet_in_Boston/pseuds/Bittersweet_in_Boston
Summary: “Who is that,” Steve growls as he stares.“James Barnes,” she says matter-of-factly. “New senior manager in R&D.”“James...” Steve says softly.“C’mon, I’ll introduce you,” says Nat, resolutely standing upright, knocking his arm off her shoulder, and grabbing his hand. “You’ve got no game at all, so someone has to help you out, Rogers.”“I’ve got game...” Steve starts to say lamely as he follows Natasha through the crowd toward the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen, and then remembers Peggy and the sum total of his dating life since he woke up from the ice, which has consisted of three brief Tinder hookups and making out with Maria a few times while they were undercover as a married couple in Latvia, and reconsiders. “...OK, I have no game,” he grumbles, dropping his head.“There you go, Steve,” Nat says, squeezing his hand. “Acceptance is the first step toward self-knowledge and improvement.”“Jesus Christ, Nat,” says Steve under his breath but now they’re approaching James and Bruce and he has to get his act together and pretend to be a normal human being.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 10
Kudos: 191





	Couldn’t Miss This One This Year

**Author's Note:**

> So this was supposed to be a short Christmas fluff based on the song Christmas Wrapping by the Waitresses (you know it even if you don’t know you know it), and it turned into a 12K monster with some angst, pining, and melancholy thrown in. I have no one to blame but myself, but I’m gonna go ahead and blame 2020 too. 
> 
> CW: brief mention of Avengers battle scenes with giant robots, undercover missions against HYDRA, and a lab accident that causes some (temporary) injury.

**Last Christmas**

“Oh no, Nat, _please_ no.”

The thing is, Steve _knows_ that look in Natasha’s eye. Mischievous and sparkling and speculative, all at the same time. It’s happened before. Nat is about to try to set him up with someone. She’s been hitting the vodka tonight, but this has happened many times before when she’s been sober. That one time she talked up Laura - no, Lillian - in Accounting while they were storming the Lemurian Star, for Chrissake.

Natasha shakes her head to punctuate just how much she’s ignoring his protestations and snakes her arm around his waist. Holy shit, she _must_ be wasted if she’s actually touching him.

“Come on now, Rogers, I have the perfect person for you,” Nat counters, leaning her head against Steve’s formidable bicep. She’s not slurring her words at all, but after five or six shots of Beluga Gold Line, she does apparently need to rest against something solid.

Steve hesitantly puts his arm around Nat to rest his hand on her shoulder. He’s wearing a very tight but extremely ugly Christmas sweater (as per Stark’s dress code on the holiday party invitation), but Natasha in her usual inimitable way has ignored Tony’s instructions and looks smashing in a sleeveless black silk jumpsuit with a red sequined belt. As Steve’s hand lands on her bare shoulder he prays that she won’t take offense and lay him out.

It’s happened before.

Once Steve is reassured that she won’t kick his ass, he sighs, resigned, and plays along.

“OK, Nat,” he says, his voice long-suffering. “Who is it this time.” It is not a question.

Natasha gestures with one perfectly manicured hand across the room. The room at Avengers Tower isn’t that big - this is supposed to be an “intimate” gathering of Avengers and Stark Industries executives and senior managers, after all - but it’s still big enough and crowded with attendees, catering staff, a giant tree covered with red and gold ornaments, scads of holiday-themed floral arrangements, and enough fairy lights to power Lower Manhattan.

Steve peers across the room and sees Bruce talking animatedly to someone. He’s very handsome and his red and green striped Christmas sweater has a cute 3D snowman on it, but...

“You know Banner’s not my type, don’t you Nat,” murmurs Steve, in as low voice as he can manage given the noise level of the room, and then, in a slightly louder voice, “Ouch!” as Nat pinches him hard on his obliques.

“Not Bruce, you asshole,” Natasha hisses. “The person next to him.” She breaks off into what sound like impatient, frustrated Russian swears under her breath.

Steve looks and sees...the back of someone’s head. OK, it’s a nice head, with shoulder-length, wavy dark brown hair that shines a little in the glow of the fairy lights, but still...

...then the head turns around and Steve’s breath catches. He thinks it’s inaudible over the ambient party noise, but Nat smiles her Mona Lisa smile anyway.

The front of the head is perfect. A handsome, almost beautiful face, with grey-blue eyes, a straight nose, full lips, a jawline for the ages, and cheekbones that could make the angels cry. In his old, pre-serum days, Steve would not have been able to see (and appreciate) the details of this perfect face from this distance, but now he can, and he’s enthralled by everything.

“Who is that,” Steve growls as he stares. Nat’s smile gets a fraction more genuine and less Mona Lisa-ish and she leans slightly against Steve’s bicep again.

“James Barnes,” she says matter-of-factly. “New senior manager in R&D, works some with Bruce and a lot with Helen Cho, specializes in medical robotics. Tony snagged him from Pierce Technologies and he joined right after Halloween.”

“James...” Steve says softly.

“C’mon, I’ll introduce you,” says Nat, resolutely standing upright, knocking his arm off her shoulder, and grabbing his hand. “You’ve got no game at all, so someone has to help you out, Rogers.”

“I’ve got game...” Steve starts to say lamely as he follows Natasha through the crowd toward the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen, and then remembers Peggy and the sum total of his dating life since he woke up from the ice, which has consisted of three brief Tinder hookups and making out with Maria a few times while they were undercover as a married couple in Latvia, and reconsiders. “...OK, I have no game,” he grumbles, dropping his head.

“There you go, Steve,” Nat says, squeezing his hand. “Acceptance is the first step toward self-knowledge and improvement.”

“Jesus Christ, Nat,” says Steve under his breath but now they’re approaching James and Bruce and he has to get his act together and pretend to be a normal human being.

“Hey Bruce, hey James,” says Nat, throwing a dazzling smile at the two men and manhandling Steve over close to James. “Enjoying the party?”

“Yeah it’s great,” James replies at the same time Bruce sighs, “Yeah it’s fine.” Steve chuckles at the juxtaposition and catches James’ glance. Their eyes sparkle at one another in appreciation of the shared joke. Nat notices and effects the introduction.

“James, this is Steve Rogers. You may have heard of him,” she says. James looks Steve unabashedly up and down, eyes still sparkling.

“I might have,” he says, his ridiculous mouth curling up in a crooked smile. He puts his hand out. “James Barnes. Nice to meet you, Steve.” Steve grabs it and is gratified that James doesn’t attempt the “gotta impress Captain America with my strength” bonecrusher handshake. His hand is strong, though, and warm without being sweaty.

Steve has a momentary vision of that warm, strong hand moving down his back to his ass and then has to pull himself together. _Normal human being, Steve, normal human being..._

“Great to meet you too, James,” Steve manages, in a voice that has a slight catch in it. He sees Nat smirk in his peripheral vision and wishes she weren’t so goddamn perceptive.

“Oh Bruce,” Nat says, as if she’s just remembering something, “Tony wanted to talk to you about some issue he’s having with the positron experiment in Lab 4.” She nods her head over to where Tony is getting more drinks at the bar and singing along with Mariah Carey and clearly not thinking at all about the positron experiment in Lab 4, but Nat starts pushing Bruce in his direction anyway.

“He’s worried about the positron experiment? At the Christmas party?” Bruce starts but then gets the picture when Nat gives him the evil eye and meekly follows her over to the bar, leaving Steve and James alone.

James looks over at them, and then back at Steve. Up close his hair is even shinier and Steve has to remind himself that it’s not standard human operating procedure to stroke someone’s head when you first meet them.

“That wasn’t a setup at all or anything,” says James, grinning. But he doesn’t look too upset about it.

“No, not at all,” Steve says back, shaking his head and smiling and looking down at the floor and back at James through his eyelashes. This must be at least somewhat effective because James’ throat contracts a little as he gulps.

They start talking and in no time at all they’re really clicking. James likes classic movies and Steve gets all James’ references to _The Simpsons_ and _Lord of the Rings_ and _Star Trek TNG_ because he took Clint’s advice and binge-watched them last year. They both love Thai food and burgers, and when Steve finds out James lives in Greenpoint his level of heart-eyes emoji goes up even more. Steve lives here in the Tower but he misses Brooklyn like crazy and has started thinking about getting a place there, within commuting distance but with just a little space between himself and Tony, JARVIS, and his work colleagues.

They start talking about working for Stark and even though James has only been on the payroll for seven weeks, he already has some *stories* and soon Steve is laughing so hard tears are forming in the corners of his eyes. James is laughing too and he leans forward to touch Steve’s arm and Steve gets a serious case of the warm tinglies.

The conversation stops for a minute after that and Steve takes advantage of the lull to smile at James and say, “Wow, James, I’m really glad I met you tonight. It’s always great to make new...friends.” He hopes it isn’t too creepy or too weird or too formal and there’s a big part of him that wants to be more than friends, but he wants to get that across.

James grins and says, “Me too, Steve.” He hesitants for a moment and then goes on. “But if we’re going to be... _friends_...you should call me Bucky.”

“Bucky?” Steve says with some confusion. “Is that a new nickname for James I haven’t heard before?”

James shakes his head and laughs. “My full name is James Buchanan Barnes,” he says, and laughs again when he sees Steve’s incredulous expression. “I know, I know. Long story. Terrible grandmother. But my friends call me Bucky and all my family since I was little.”

“OK, Jam—...Bucky,” says Steve, trying it out. “I think I can manage that.” Their laughing expressions turn tender as they look at each other and again Steve has to restrain himself from reaching out to stroke Bucky’s hair...so shiny and soft...

Instead Steve opens his mouth to ask Bucky out. He’s thinking late breakfast at this great diner he knows in East Williamsburg, Dugan’s, where they have amazing hash browns and it’s a perfect first date spot. He’s just spitting out “Will you...” when they’re rudely interrupted by a goateed garden gnome in a garish green sweater with a huge shiny Iron Man sporting a Santa hat on the front.

“Steve. Esteban. Stev-a-roonie,” Tony almost croons. He looks between Steve and Bucky. “Sorry to break up your early mating ritual but we gotta go.” He puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Avengers-level incident in...where is it, JARVIS?”

“Tokyo,” says a smooth British voice from Tony’s watch. “An army of giant robot locusts heading north across the Bay.”

“Robot locusts,” Tony repeats. Now he’s tugging at Steve’s arm. “C’mon, Cap, time to suit up.” He looks at Bucky. “Sorry, Bucky, you can have him back when we get home.”

“Hold on, just a second,” says Steve, brushing off Tony’s clutching with more than a little irritation. “You go ahead, Tony, I’m right behind you.” Tony sighs dramatically and walks off, leaving Steve even more annoyed. The Avengers are ruining his social life. _Fucking robot locusts._ He turns to Bucky, apologetic.

“Bucky, I’m so sorry,” Steve starts to say, but Bucky cuts him off.

“No worries, you gotta go save the world,” he says briskly, although it’s clear he’s disappointed too. He reaches out his hand.

“Here, give me your phone,” says Bucky in an authoritative voice. Steve automatically obeys, unlocking it and passing it to him. Bucky quickly types something into it and passes it back to Steve. It’s Bucky’s name with a 😄 emoji next to it and a Brooklyn cell number. Steve looks back at Bucky, who shrugs and grins.

“It’s a long flight to Tokyo, even for a quinjet,” Bucky says. “You might need someone to text cute animal photos to.” His eyes sparkle.

Steve smiles his crooked grin back. “I might,” he says.

“Good luck and be careful,” says Bucky, turning serious. Then his eyes sparkle again. “Who else is gonna send me _Marriage Story_ memes.”

“I’m pretty sure I understood that reference,” Steve replies. He’s about to reach out for Bucky’s hand when Natasha appears out of nowhere by his right shoulder, scaring both men out of their wits. She’s already changed into her uniform and her hair is now in an immaculate French braid.

“Rogers,” she says authoritatively, her voice pitched even lower than usual. “Time to go. _Now_.”

As she drags Steve off he looks back at Bucky, who smiles and waves. He looks even better looking over Steve’s shoulder as Steve leaves the party.

Nat drags Steve to his floor so he can grab his Cap suit and shield. He changes in record time and meets her by the elevator to the roof where the quinjet is waiting. The elevator ride is quiet until...

“What the fuck, Nat,” Steve says under his breath. “You introduce me to the cutest guy in the world and then yank it all away just when I was gonna ask him out.”

Natasha shrugs minutely and quirks an eyebrow.

“Don’t blame me, Rogers, blame the robot locusts,” she says. “We’ll be back from Tokyo in a week or so and you guys will go on that date and everything’ll be great. You’ll see.”

“Gonna hold you to that, Romanova,” growls Steve as the doors open and they stride out onto the roof.

Five minutes after takeoff, Steve’s phone buzzes multiple times. It’s a series of random emojis and a YouTube link to a video about baby bats eating bananas, from **Bucky Barnes** 😄. Steve chuckles to himself and settles in for the long flight.

🎄🎄🎄

**Last Spring**

Nat’s not usually wrong, but when she’s wrong, she’s _really_ wrong.

Saving Tokyo takes considerably longer than a week. The actual battle with the super robot locusts only lasts a day or so - they aren’t that hard to destroy individually, but like their organic counterparts there are zillions of them so it takes time for the Avengers, working with Japanese forces, to dispatch them all. At the end of the fight no one on Tony’s team is seriously injured, but several people, including Steve, have minor lacerations from the locusts’ antenna knives.

(Antenna knives! Who the hell thinks up this shit?)

Well...the Avengers find out who thinks up this shit in the week after the battle, namely a Russian scientist named Smerdyakov who’d worked for Aleksandr Lukin for years before going out on his own. And Nat’s interrogation of said Russian scientist reveals that he’s been working with a local HYDRA branch to finance and build the killer robots.

This info sends Steve, Nat, Maria, and Clint on a two-month undercover chase to root out and capture or kill the East Asian HYDRA baddies, and then they spend two weeks debriefing at the Avengers safe house outside Sapporo. At least on this mission Steve and Maria don’t have to pretend to be a couple and make out, because the only brunette that Steve wants to kiss right now is back in New York. And male.

All this to say that Steve doesn’t get back to New York until mid-March, and the only time he’s able to text Bucky while he’s gone is for the two weeks he’s in Tokyo after the battle before going undercover and the two weeks at the safe house. At least he was able to warn Bucky that he’d be incommunicado for a while in the middle. They’d had two or three FaceTime calls sprinkled around during Steve’s sojourn in the Far East, which only confirms to Steve that Bucky is the awesomest and that Steve should ask him out as soon as he gets home, before anyone else gets there first. At least Bucky hasn’t mentioned a boyfriend or girlfriend during their chats, which Steve takes as a good sign.

But once Steve returns home in March, he panics about asking Bucky on a date and it takes three weeks for him to get up his nerve...courtesy of some heavy prodding from Natasha, who by this time is of course thoroughly tired of Steve’s pining and whining.

“Jesus Christ, Rogers,” Nat says one evening when they’re sitting in the Tower common room watching _Wall-E_ , in response to Steve’s plaintive comment that “Bucky loves Pixar.” “If you don’t call Barnes and ask him out right now, _I’m_ gonna ask him out.”

Then Nat smiles an evil smile and continues, “...and I have some _really_ nice toys.”

Which both terrifies Steve and turns him on just a little, so partly to avert Nat from carrying out her nefarious plan (and she would do it, too), he gathers his courage and goes into the hallway to call Bucky and set up a date. As his mobile’s ringing, Steve makes a last-minute call to ask Bucky to lunch. Lunch, right?? It’s just lunch. Delicious but also totally casual. And hard to mess up. They can still go to that diner in East Williamsburg - in addition to delicious waffles,Dugan’s also serves huge, super tasty bacon cheeseburgers with mountains of garlic fries.

Bucky is happy to hear from Steve and immediately agrees to the lunch date - much to Steve’s relief. Unfortunately, finding a date that works for said lunch proves to be difficult. Both mens’ calendars are pretty well packed, even on the weekends. Finally Steve preemptively cancels an official lunch with Tony and the Mayor (because fuck that guy) and they grab the last Saturday in April, three weeks hence. Steve is psyched but a little bummed that he has to wait that long to be alone with Bucky, but he figures he’ll see Bucky in the Tower now and then.

And Steve does see Bucky in the Tower...but Bucky is always deep in a technical conversation with Helen or Bruce or the rest of his R&D team, or else Steve catches sight of him out of the corner of his eye while Steve is training junior operatives or stuck in some boring meeting with some jackhole from the Department of Defense.

Throughout all this, they do manage to text regularly and their occasional FaceTime calls are a highlight of Steve’s life. Bucky is so funny, so clever, so endearingly nerdy, so gorgeous and he somehow seems to think Steve is pretty OK too.

Steve can hardly wait for their date, and keeps changing his mind about his date outfit. Should he wear the tight blue button down? or the tight white t-shirt? or is that too casual? maybe he should get a new tight t-shirt, possibly in a different color? He finally decides on the button down, but with jeans instead of khakis because it’s a _casual_ lunch. He can throw his leather flight jacket over the whole thing if it’s chilly.

Steve is also obsessed with what he’s going to order on this date. He’s pretty wedded to the idea of ordering the bacon cheeseburger with extra pickles and extra bacon and the fries and a side salad - because HEALTH - but he’s willing to be flexible and consider other options once they actually sit down at the diner. Dugan’s does a pretty good reuben too, but then his breath will smell like sauerkraut...Steve should definitely bring some breath mints in case he goes that route. He tucks a tiny tin of Altoids into his inside jacket pocket.

By this time his dithering has thoroughly annoyed all his colleagues and if they’re not actively avoiding him, they’re definitely not seeking him out either. Nat no longer restrains herself from rolling her eyes every time Steve brings up logistics of The Great Lunch Date, and Clint unobtrusively grabs a sandwich or a few tacos and fades away when Steve starts talking about it in the common kitchen area. Everyone can hardly wait for Steve to _just go on this fuckin date already._

The Big Saturday arrives and Steve is ready. He’s all dressed, got his wallet and phone, got his breath mints, and he’s headed down to the basement to grab his bike and meet Bucky in Brooklyn at the diner. He’d thought about taking the subway but decided not to tempt fate with the MTA for such an important occasion.

Steve stops in the Tower lobby to grab a coffee from the atrium cafe before he heads to the subterranean garage. He’s just walking toward the garage elevators when he turns his head and sees...

“Bucky?” Steve says uncertainly, ambling up to his crush, who is standing in the atrium with Helen Cho and...leaning against a large rolling suitcase? “Were we supposed to meet here instead of at the diner?”

“Steve!” Bucky turns his head and smiles, his whole face lighting up. Steve could look at that face forever. Then Bucky’s eyes widen and he turns serious, frowning as he says, “Oh god, Steve, I can’t make our date today.”

Before Steve can make any comment to this, Helen pipes up.

“James and I have to go to the Stark facility in Voronezh - there’s an emergency with the electromedical equipment development process, and Tony needs us to fix it,” she explains.

Steve can’t quite process this. “Voronezh?” he says stupidly. It sounds Russian, but he spent the war taking out HYDRA bases in Austria, France, and Germany and his geography further east gets very fuzzy very quickly.

“It’s south of Moscow,” says Bucky. “Not too far from the Ukrainian border, which is good because then we can check on the facilities outside of Kiev...” he stops as he sees the confusion and disappointment on Steve’s face, and steps forward so he and Steve can talk a little more privately. Helen takes the hint and considerately turns around.

“Steve, I’m so sorry, I was really looking forward to our date,” Bucky murmurs in a low voice that’s nonetheless still audible above the ambient noise in the atrium. Steve loves the timbre of this voice so he restrains himself from telling Bucky he could hear him if he was whispering across the hall. “I was going to tell you, but this literally came up early this morning and I basically had just enough time to pack and get over here. We’re just waiting for...”

“...me,” Tony pops up behind Bucky holding a giant iced latte that is more _quaranta_ than _venti_. “Sorry, Cap, I’ve gotta steal your guy for a while. There’s a problem with the...” and he says a bunch of impressive-sounding technical words that mean nothing to Steve but obviously Bucky and Helen understand because they’re nodding along, “...so we’ve got to head out right away.”

Steve’s head is still spinning but then the suitcase catches his eye again and he asks, “How long will you guys be away?” Bucky’s about to answer when Tony cuts him off.

“Hard to say, but it’s a complicated problem so it could be six to eight weeks,” Tony says, shrugging and shuffling his feet.

 _Six to eight weeks. Fuck._ Steve swallows his disappointment. “Oh,” he says lamely. He really shouldn’t be this bummed about a fuckin date. _Pull it together, Rogers,_ he thinks to himself savagely, then says in a more positive voice, “Well, I hope it goes well and you get everything fixed!”

“Thanks, Steve,” says Bucky softly, looking bummed himself. “We’ll get together when I get back, OK? In the meantime,” Bucky’s mouth crooks up a little and he rests his hand on Steve’s shoulder for a moment. “I’m told southern Russia does have internet, so I am available for texting and receiving Tiktoks and _Gossip Girl_ memes.”

Steve grins. “Copy that, Barnes.” He salutes ironically. “Have a good trip.”

“See ya, Cap,” Tony salutes back with his enormous coffee container. The three of them turn and head off to the elevators and the helicopter that will take them to Tony’s private jet at Kennedy.

Steve stands there for a few minutes and watches them until they disappear into the elevator bank. He can still feel Bucky’s hand on his shoulder, but now he has nothing to do and he’s still pretty damn disappointed. He could go back upstairs to his apartment, but he knows his teammates will run away and hide since he’s such a fucking bummer.

Steve takes a sip of his coffee and then decides he needs something to go with it. He goes back into the cafe and buys four chocolate croissants. When he sits down in the atrium and methodically eats them, he feels the tiniest bit better. His phone pings and he pulls it out of his pocket.

**Nat**

_Hope the date goes great!!_ 😸🤩👨🏻🦳👹

Steve looks at it for a moment and smiles. As much as he’s annoyed Nat lately, she’s a good friend with the best intentions. He’ll wait a bit to go back up and tell her the bad news, maybe take a walk, get some sunshine, try that new shawarma place on 36th and Third Avenue. Hell, she’ll probably know by the time he gets back. In the meantime, he has a text or two to send to someone else.

**SGR**

_Have a good trip!! Bring me one of those nesting dolls_ 😊 

He thinks a moment, then does a YouTube search and texts Bucky a link to sea otters goofing around at the Oregon Zoo. He takes a deep breath, stands up, and strides to the Tower exit.

🎄🎄🎄

**Last Summer**

“Hey Rogers.”

Steve looks up when he hears Nat’s two-pack-a-day tones across the common room. He’s sitting on the giant sectional, wearing board shorts and a faded Brooklyn College t-shirt and eating a PB&J sandwich and potato chips while he scrolls through his phone. He’s pretending to check Twitter but really he’s just hoping for a text from Bucky.

“Hey Nat,” Steve replies once he’s swallowed his bite. His mom did teach him not to talk with his mouth full, after all. “‘S’up?”

“You look like you’re in a good mood,” says Nat, sliding in next to him and stealing a chip. There’s nothing going on in the Tower today so she’s also dressed for comfort in bright pink cropped leggings and a baggy IOWA shirt that can only be Clint’s.

“Mmm,” Steve says around his next mouthful of sandwich. He smiles at her and says, “Fire Island in three days!”

“Oh shit, that’s right,” smirks Natasha, grabbing a few more chips. “You must be so psyched.”

“Yeah,” Steve answers, smiling.

Natasha is correct, Steve is really psyched. Bucky’s been in Russia for two months and just got home last weekend. Steve hasn’t really been able to see Bucky yet, beyond a brief conversation in a Tower hallway, because he’s been behind closed doors since he got back, debriefing with Tony and Helen and the rest of the US medical research team about what happened in Eastern Europe.

But all that will change this Saturday, because while Bucky was in Russia, he and Steve talked about going somewhere fun and sunny for a week this summer. And then Bucky went ahead and rented a condo on Fire Island for the Fourth of July holiday week, and gave the news to Steve over a FaceTime call as a sort of early birthday present.

Steve is over the moon. A whole week with Bucky, alone at the beach! Some might consider this step to be a little premature, given that Steve and Bucky haven’t yet been on an actual date, but they’ve been getting to know each other so well through text and FaceTime that Steve feels it’s going to be great. _So_ great. He bounces a little on the sofa just thinking about it, jostling Nat, who is now stealing sips from his Coke.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be great,” says Steve happily. “Just me and Bucky, alone at the beach on Fire Island...”

“With thousands of your best friends,” Nat interrupts drily, but she can’t dampen Steve’s mood.

“Just the two of us,” he insists, grabbing his Coke back from Nat. “We’ll be able to hang out, get to know each other, see if this could be a real thing...with no distractions from work, no global emergencies, no last-minute trips to Siberia...” He takes a long swig from his Coke, not caring that it has Nat’s cooties all over it.

“That’s awesome, Steve,” says Nat, stealing one more chip before standing up to head over to the common area kitchen in search of her own snacks. “Just don’t forget who brought you two together,” she says teasingly over her shoulder.

“How can I when you won’t let me,” Steve retorts. But he’s smiling thinking about Bucky and their upcoming beach week. And of the matrioshka doll that he found outside his apartment door yesterday with the message: FROM B ❤️. The doll is beautiful and the heart emoji gives Steve a warm feeling in his gut.

Nat is pouring Maltesers into her mouth straight from the box and rummaging in the fridge when JARVIS speaks from the ceiling.

“Ms. Romanova, Captain Rogers, Sir asks me to inform you of a Code Red situation. Meet him at the quinjet pad in twenty minutes, please. Full gear.”

Nat and Steve look at each other from across the room.

“Shit,” they say at the same time. Steve stuffs the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and Nat grabs five cheese sticks and a package of Haribo from the candy bowl before they scoot out of the room. They meet at the elevator 15 minutes later in uniform, and head up to the roof. Nat is still eating Star Mix and Steve is staring fixedly straight ahead. There’s silence for several seconds.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Steve,” Nat says, looking at his reflection in the elevator doors. “I’m sure we’ll be back in time for your vacation.” But she doesn’t sound anywhere near as confident as she did when she said something very similar back in December at the Christmas party.

Steve takes a deep breath and sighs noisily. He’s trying to stay positive but it doesn’t look good. The doors open and they walk out to meet Tony, Bruce, and Clint on the quinjet pad. The plane’s engines are already revved up and waiting for the Avengers to board.

“I hope you’re right, Nat,” says Steve, just loud enough to be heard over the noise. “I really, really hope you’re right.”

For the second time this year, Nat is really, _really_ wrong. It’s almost a rerun of Tokyo, except it’s Paris and fucking giant killer robot spiders with knives for fangs. Really, fang knives? Who thinks up this shit?

This time it’s a French scientist named Montagnier, who has ties to a splinter HYDRA group with cells all over Western Europe. Honestly, Steve had thought that he, Fury, Nat, Clint, and Maria had destroyed all of Western European HYDRA three years ago, but obviously this fucking organization is really living up to its name.

So once everyone has gotten medical attention for the minor lacerations from the spider fang knives (seriously??), Steve, Nat, Maria, and Clint go on another undercover rampage, this time across France, Germany, Austria, and northern Italy.

As with Tokyo, Steve is able to text and call Bucky while they’re hanging out in Paris in the aftermath of the battle. It’s great to FaceTime with his crush, and it’s sweet when Bucky sings Happy Birthday to him on July Fourth, but Steve would much rather be with him on the beach at Fire Island than holed up in Tony’s apartment in the Trocadéro...even if said apartment is really swank. Bucky’s brought his younger sister with him to the beach, and he says that while she’s very sweet and fun (if annoying, as is often the way of younger sisters), he wishes Steve were there instead.

Steve sighs into his 800-thread count sheets at Tony’s place after he hangs up. He wishes he were with Bucky too, although he has to admit that he’s relieved that Bucky took his sister to the beach, instead of, say, some smoking hot dude he picked up on Tinder.

Once they go undercover, though, Steve has no communication with Bucky...and this operation takes three months. They get to hang out in Monaco and Strasbourg and Berlin and Leipzig and Vienna and Trieste and Milan, but it’s all surveillance and psyops and infiltration and punching bad guys in the face, and Steve can’t help but wish that he were visiting some of the most romantic cities in the world as a tourist with Bucky, rather than sitting in a cafe acting as bait for some rat-faced HYDRA thug.

The team debriefs at the Avengers safe house in Pontoise for two weeks once the operation is complete, and Steve can text and call Bucky again. He finds out that he missed a fun week at the beach but a hot, sticky, and dirty summer in the city. Steve kind of knew this already, having spent his entire young life in tiny Brooklyn apartments with no A/C, but he’s still sad he didn’t get to spend it with Bucky.

Bucky says nothing much has happened with him for the last few months except work work work; Helen is a great boss but a real taskmaster and almost as much of a workaholic as Tony. When Steve asks him if he wants anything from Paris, Bucky at first demurs and then requests a little model of the Eiffel Tower. He doesn’t mention any dates, which relieves Steve no end, but maybe he wouldn’t since it’s not really any of Steve’s business. Steve sighs into the considerably less than 800-thread-count sheets in his spartan room in the safe house and wishes, not for the first time, that he were home.

The team finally returns to New York on a beautiful late afternoon in mid-October. Steve picks up the most expensive Eiffel Tower statue he can find at a souvenir shop when Tony takes the team via limo from Pontoise into town so he can eat at Astrance before they head home. Tony wasn’t involved in the HYDRA operation - not too surprisingly, he sucks shit at undercover work - but he joined the team for the debrief at the safe house.

As they approach the Tower in the quinjet, Steve is looking out the window, drinking in the views of the city he loves. He’s missed it so much - the energy, the noise, the people, the excitement. Some things might have changed since the 30s, but the spirit of New York is constant and eternal.

He thinks about the Tower, and then he thinks again about getting his own place. The idea resurfaced during a bout of homesickness he experienced while clonking two HYDRA heads together in a subterranean lair outside Potsdam, and it’s been on his mind ever since.

Suddenly he feels an elbow dig into his bicep.

“Your boy missed you while you were gone,” Tony says, smirking a little. “He talked about you all summer.”

Steve chuckles, but it’s mostly from discomfort and irritation. He and Bucky haven’t had any time together at all, and it’s almost completely because of Tony and his stupid company and his stupid Avengers project, and Tony knows this full well. Goddamn asshole.

“He’s not ‘my boy,’ Tony,” replies Steve, trying not to sound too testy. “We...we hardly know each other.” Honestly, he thinks he’s getting to know Bucky pretty well from a distance but there’s no way in hell he’s going to talk about a not-quite-relationship with Tony Fucking Stark.

“That’s not what I hear from him,” Tony says suggestively, elbowing Steve in the arm again. “He talked about you all summer like the sun shone out of your ass. He’s really into you.” Steve is secretly pleased to hear this, but also annoyed to hear it from Tony because Jesus Christ, sometimes Stark is a fuckin middle schooler. Next thing he’ll be passing Steve notes from Bucky saying “Do you like me ___yes ___no.”

“Well, maybe I’d be more into him if we had the chance to go out on even one date, _Tony_.” This time Steve can’t keep the testiness out of his voice. Tony smirks and walks away as the quinjet lands on the Tower roof.

The entire team hardly waits for the jet door to fully open before striding out and heading to the elevator. Happily Tony doesn’t accompany them as he’s already opening the door to the penthouse. Everyone is silent on the ride down to their residence floor and disperses to their respective apartments without a goodbye. Steve loves his teammates but right now he’s so sick of them he could spit. He’s also tired as fuck and burnt out from his job.

Steve has thrown his duffel bag on the floor of his bedroom and taken a long, hot shower to wash off the travel when there’s a knock at his door. He yells “Be right there!” and throws on a tight t-shirt and some old sweatpants that shrank in the wash as he heads out to answer.

It’s Bucky. He’s wearing his usual work uniform of khakis and a button-down and his eyes widen when he sees what Steve’s wearing...and not wearing. Steve realizes that he’s not wearing underwear and that these sweatpants are a little...threadbare...but he swallows down his embarrassment and pretends like everything is normal.

“Hey Bucky,” he says, starting to run his fingers through his damp hair until he remembers that the shirt is small and the sweatpants are losing their elastics fluxxy as well as threadbare and puts his hand down. “It’s good to see you.”

Bucky gulps a little and keeps his eyes firmly fixed on Steve’s face. “It’s great to see you, Steve! I just heard that you all were back and wanted to come say hi. It wasn’t the same without you here this summer.”

“I missed home and...everyone here too,” replies Steve a little lamely. He wants to say that he missed Bucky specifically but chickens out in the moment. Then he remembers Bucky’s present and exclaims “Oh! Hold on...I’ve got something for you. Come in.”

Bucky follows Steve hesitantly into the latter’s apartment as Steve rifles through his duffel. He pulls out the box and gives it to Bucky a little shyly.

“You said you wanted...” Steve starts to say as Bucky opens it. Bucky gasps.

“This is so nice!” he says, and looks at Steve, eyes shining. “I was thinking you could just get me a keychain or something.”

Steve smiles back. “Glad you like it,” he says.

There’s a moment of silence that doesn’t quite have time to get awkward before Bucky says, “Well, I have to get back to work in a minute, but I wanted to see if you were going to the big Halloween party? It’s two Fridays from now. I know you literally just landed and probably don’t even know about it, but I thought it could be fun if we went together and did a...kind of a...” Bucky turns pink and rubs the back of his neck, “...kind of a coordinated costume?”

“Halloween party?” Steve says, trying to get his brain to work. It’s past midnight Paris time and he’s been running around Europe for three and a half months and he needs four or five snacks and he’s so tired. _Just say yes, asshole,_ he tells himself. “Yeah, I’d love to go with you and it’d be great to do a coup—...a coordinated costume.” He almost says “couples costume” but realizes almost just in time that that’s a little awkward given that he and Bucky aren’t technically a couple. Yet.

“That’s great...” Bucky starts to say when JARVIS interrupts.

“Excuse me, Mr. Barnes,” comes the posh voice issuing from the ceiling. “Dr. Cho requires your presence on Floor 24 immediately.”

After more than three months away and close to exhaustion, Steve has almost forgotten about Tony’s AI and he has to remind himself not to go into fight mode. He unclenches his fist.

 _This fuckin place._ The Tower has its perks, sure, but it’s also got some major disadvantages.

“Yeah, uh, thanks, JARVIS,” says Bucky, looking upward. He looks at Steve apologetically. “I gotta go, but let’s text to coordinate about costumes, OK?”

“OK. Awesome,” Steve says, grinning to get over himself. He’s now in full jet lag mode and he’s not entirely sure what’s happening but it sounds like he and Bucky will finally get their date, even if they have to dress in doofy outfits to get it.

“OK!” says Bucky as he backs unwillingly toward the door. “I’ve got some ideas but I’d love to hear your thoughts. It’s a superhero theme - I know, I know, what the fuck, Tony, right? - but we could do something fun...”

Bucky phone pings and brings him up short. “Oh god, it’s Helen, I’ve really gotta go,” he says. “But we’ll talk soon, Steve. Have a good night!”

“You too,” Steve replies with a shy smile. “Talk to you soon.”

The door closes behind Bucky and Steve shakes his head. OK, so their first real date will be a costume party. A superhero costume party. With all their work colleagues. For Chrissake. But it’ll be something. And maybe they can sneak out early and grab some sushi at that little place near Madison Square Park...

Steve shakes his head again to bring himself out of his reverie. He’s got to feed the machine and then he’s got to stay up just long enough to start getting back on New York time. He pads over to his fridge to see what they’ve stocked for him.

_Superheroes, huh? Maybe Superman. But he doesn’t have a sidekick. Aquaman? Ditto. Hey we’d make a good Thor and Loki..._

Three sandwiches, two protein shakes, a container of salad, and two nature documentaries later, Steve heads to bed. Now he’s actually looking forward to this ridiculous party and he’s excited and hopeful about spending time with Bucky. He falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

🎄🎄🎄

**Last Fall**

Steve stands in his apartment in the Tower, looks himself up and down, and grins. He’s all dressed up for the Stark Halloween party, and he looks pretty good if he says so himself. He and Bucky had gone back and forth about their couples costumes - sorry, their coordinated costumes - and had finally landed on Batman and Robin. Only Bucky has had the brilliant idea of turning the obvious on its head, so he’s going as Batman - in a fake muscle suit, nipples and all - and Steve is Robin.

Somehow Nat found a Robin costume big enough for Steve, and it’s perfect, yellow cape, red tunic, green shorts and all. Steve has drawn the line at having bare legs, though, so Nat found him some green tights to go with his green booties. He’s got the little black mask in his tunic pocket to put on once he and Bucky arrive at the party.

Steve feels a certain measure of excitement about tonight. He wasn’t entirely sure about it at first - admittedly, when Bucky initially told him about it, Steve was jet lagged and mentally exhausted from a very long and stressful mission in Europe - but now he’s getting pumped. It should be a fun party. And, as Steve told himself a couple of weeks ago, they can always skip out and grab food if it gets to be a drag or too much.

Making a last-minute adjustment to his package (these shorts are a little too snug, ack), Steve then heads out of his apartment and down the hall. He and Bucky are meeting outside the party so they can make an entrance together. They wanted to meet earlier to get ready together at Steve’s place, but Bucky was conducting a big experiment in the lab with Helen earlier this afternoon and Steve spent his day visiting with vets at the VA in Brooklyn, so there wasn’t time.

(OK, Steve might have also spent part of his day checking out potential neighborhoods in Brooklyn, but no one in the Tower needs to know that.)

As Steve rides the elevator from the residence floors to the grand ballroom upstairs, JARVIS comes over the elevator speaker.

“Captain Rogers, I’ve been asked to inform you that there was an accident in Medical Lab 3 earlier this afternoon and Mr. Barnes was...incapacitated.”

Steve looks up at the speaker. “Wait, JARVIS...what??”

“There was an accident in Medical Lab 3 earlier this afternoon and Mr. Barnes...” JARVIS starts to repeat, but Steve cuts off the AI.

“No, JARVIS, I mean...what happened? Was it bad? Is Bucky alright?”

“To answer your questions, Captain Rogers, there was a pressure leak in one of the valves of the surgical robots Mr. Barnes, Dr. Cho, and Sir were testing, and some of the pieces came loose from the robot. There was some damage to the lab, including some dented walls and a starred external window...” Steve cuts JARVIS off again.

“What happened to Bucky, JARVIS?” he says sharply, his voice edged with anxiety.

“Mr. Barnes was closest to the robot and was struck in the upper left arm with two pieces of shrapnel, both of which caused lacerations requiring stitches and one of which broke his humerus in two places. He is currently on Medical Floor 12 with Sir and Dr. Cho, who were unhurt, and Dr. Banner has joined them. They’ve notified his family...”

“Oh shit,” Steve hisses in a loud voice, interrupting JARVIS yet again. The elevator doors open on the floor of the grand ballroom and Steve stumbles out of the car, pulling his phone out of his tunic pocket. Natasha appears in the hallway next to him out of nowhere, looking ridiculously resplendent in a She-Ra costume.

“Steve, I just heard,” she says in a voice that’s pitched a little higher than her usual low rasp. “What’s going on? Do you know...?”

She’s cut off when the phone Steve’s holding in his hand starts to ring. The call is from Bucky and Steve waves his hand in front of Nat’s face to tell her to pipe down. He hits the button to answer and puts it on speaker.

“Hey, Bucky?” Steve says, his tone clearly indicating that he’s trying not to panic while clearly panicking. “I just heard about the accident! What’s going on? Are you OK?”

“Steve!” says Bucky in a loud tone clearly indicating that he’s on some pretty special shit for pain relief. “I’m so glad to hear your voice, Steve.” There’s a lot of noise in the background.

“Me too, Buck, me too,” Steve says, trying to be patient. “JARVIS told me you got hurt. How’s your arm?”

Bucky giggles. “Well, it’s kind of a mess right now, Stevie-pie, but Helen and Bruce are prepping for surgery.” Steve can hear Cho and Banner talking on the other side of the operating room, even though they’re keeping their voices down.

“Surgery!” exclaims Steve. “Is it as bad as all that?!?” Bucky giggles again.

“Well, they don’t think so,” he says. “But they have to suture up the wounds at the very least before they put a cast on. Right now they’re looking at x-rays and CT scans to see if the humerus needs a metal rod or if it will heal correctly on its own.”

“Ah, got it,” Steve replies, trying very hard to radiate calm and confidence through a small metal and glass rectangle sitting in his hand. “Well, you’re in good hands with Helen and Bruce, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Yeeeeesssss,” drawls Bucky loudly. Oof, those painkillers must be really something. “But Steve, I’m so sorry, I can’t make the party tonight! I was really looking forward to going with you, I’ve got my costume in my locker and everything...maybe once all this surgery nonsense is over I can meet you, we can have a good time...”

“Yeah, right, Buck, of course,” Steve says, reassuring, as he and Nat look at each other and simultaneously roll their eyes. “I’ll meet you very soon...it’ll be great...” Helen and Bruce are still talking, but now they’re closer and Steve can hear Banner say, “Need to put him out...”

“OK, bye Steve, you’re the best, see you soon,” says Bucky, slurring his words a little.

“You too, Bucky, take care,” Steve says carefully into the phone before the line goes dead. He and Nat look at each other.

“He’ll be OK,” says Natasha, reaching out and rubbing Steve’s shoulder over his bright yellow Robin cape. “He’s in excellent hands. The best hands.”

“I know,” Steve sighs, leaning into her touch. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, I just don’t know if we...” he trails off and looks at the ground before shaking his head. “Never mind,” he says firmly. “Let’s go to this fuckin party.”

Nat looks doubtful but she escorts him down the hall and into the ballroom, where the Halloween party is in full swing. Clint strides up to them, wearing a Thor helmet and tunic and carefully carrying three shot glasses. “Hey, it’s a great party!” he yells over the noise. “Here.” And passes them two of the three shots.

Clint has obviously been imbibing already, or he’d remember the futility of giving Steve alcohol. Not for the first time since his transformation, Steve wishes he really could get drunk. He passes his glass to Nat, who downs them both in rapid succession, and they progress into the room.

An hour or so later, Steve’s gotten a dozen compliments on his Robin costume and the same number of “Where’s Batman??” queries. The food is excellent, as usual, but he’s pretty well done and is considering whether he can make a graceful exit when Tony appears in front of him, wearing red and gold pajamas and an Iron Man mask on top of his head. It totally figures that Tony would come to a superhero Halloween party dressed as himself. At least he didn’t wear his actual battle armor.

“Cap,” he says, sympathetically if a little unsteadily patting Steve on the arm. Apparently he’s already been hitting the shots as well. “I’m so sorry about your boy. But he’s doing OK. Helen and Bruce didn’t see any need to implant a metal rod, and they stitched him up and gave him one of my new polymer casts, which are totally rad by the way...”

“Tony, he’s not my b—,” Steve starts to say, then gives up. “That’s great, Tony, I’m really glad to hear it.”

“You should be able to see him tomorrow, though it sounded like his whole family was coming over as soon as visiting hours start,” continues Tony. He shrugs and says, “Although fuck if I know what visiting hours are, I just made them up talking Mrs. Barnes off the ledge, this isn’t fuckin Lenox Hill.” He flags down a waiter, grabs a shot off his tray that’s Day-Glo orange and smoking and looks altogether ominous, and downs it in one gulp.

“Thanks, Tony,” Steve says, narrowly avoiding losing it with his friend and colleague. He takes a deep breath and starts counting. _1–2–3..._ “I’ll stop by tomorrow to see him.”

Tony looks at him, hesitates, grabs his chest over the arc reactor, and then keeps talking. “I’m leaving on a trip to Southeast Asia early next week. It’s a goodwill charity thing for kids injured by war and land mines. It’ll be like two or three weeks. A month tops. Pepper set it up.” He flags down another waiter and knocks back another poisonous looking orange shot before continuing. “You should come with me.”

“What??” exclaims Steve, taking a step backward and almost upending the hors d’oeuvres tray of the poor waiter behind him.

“Seriously,” Tony says, grabbing a few canapés from the unfortunate waiter before the latter skitters off to a less dangerous part of the ballroom. “You can visit your boy this weekend, be all solicitous and caring and shit, but he’ll be cooped up in Medical for at least another week and then he’s got two months of medical leave...thank fuck he’s not gonna sue me...so he’ll be off at home recuperating. And then you can see him when you get home and he’s well on his way to recovery.” Tony elbows Steve in the bicep - _God_ , Steve wishes he wouldn’t do that. “Whaddya think, Steve? It’s a good plan, right?”

Steve catches a movement out of the corner of his eye and looks up to see Nat and Pepper standing together near the bar. Pepper looks beautiful and pulled together as always, even if she’s wearing an authentic-looking Wonder Woman outfit complete with black wig. She’s holding a glass of champagne and she holds it up in a silent “Cheers” when she sees Steve looking at her.

_Maybe Tony’s right._

“Can I get back to you on that, Tony,” says Steve, looking back at his colleague. It’s not really a question, but Tony treats it as such.

“Of course, Cap, no problemo,” Tony answers, grabbing another shot and a few crab puffs from nearby waiters. “I leave next Tuesday, so just let me know before then.” He salutes and staggers off toward Pepper, who looks at Steve, smiles, and shakes her head.

Steve takes this as his cue tohead out, so he works the perimeter, nodding and smiling at people until he makes it to the exit and heads to the elevator with a deep sigh of relief.

The next day at 10 AM sees Steve inching hesitantly down the hall on a Medical floor in the Tower to see his crush. He’s got a nice plant of burgundy potted mums and a big box of chocolates from Raaka in Carroll Gardens, which he knows are Bucky’s favorites from all theirconversations about Brooklyn.

As he reaches Bucky’s hospital room, he hears a good deal of noise and stops. He peeks around the corner to look through the window and sees Bucky, propped up in a hospital bed with a sleek translucent cast on his arm, surrounded by people.

An older woman is fussing around Bucky, making sure he’s covered with blankets and got enough pillows, while an older man sits in a corner chair and tells the woman to stop fussing. A younger woman who looks a lot like Bucky is chasing two young children around the room while appealing to a man with dark blond hair who’s glued to his phone. An even younger woman is sitting on a loveseat with her arm around an attractive Black woman, talking happily at Bucky while her partner sits quiet.

This must be Bucky’s family. For a moment Steve considers joining them, but then realizes he’s got no standing to do so. Bucky’s not his boyfriend, no matter what Tony says, and it would just be weird if he tried to impose himself on the scene. And while he’s a little jealous that Bucky’s got such a big, loving family - he still misses his mom, 90 years later - he’s also a little overwhelmed by such a boisterous group.

There’s a little table right outside Bucky’s room, and Steve leaves the chocolates and flowers on it. Steve put a card inside the chocolate box, so Bucky’ll know who it’s from. He looks through the window at the Barnes family for one more minute before unobtrusively making his escape. He doesn’t see Bucky looking longingly through the window to where he was just standing the minute before.

The next day, Steve knocks on Tony’s office door. When the door opens, Steve says right away, “OK, Tony, I’m in. On the trip.”

“That’s great, Cap, I’m so stoked,” Tony replies, getting up from his desk. “It’s gonna be a great time.” He eyes Steve speculatively. “And when you get back, you and Bucky can make it happen.”

Steve shakes his head minutely. His eyes are wintry and his mouth is pursed. “I don’t think it’s in the cards, Tony,” he says, his voice a little bleak. “But I’m looking forward to the trip.”

Tony looks like he’s going to argue, but then he looks at Steve, 6 foot 3 and 260 pounds of pure stubbornness, and changes his tack.

“You never know, Steverino,” says Tony softly. “You never know.”

🎄🎄🎄

**This Christmas**

“Once again as in olden days, happy golden days of yore.” Steve sings softly along with Ella Fitzgerald as he checks the oven. At the holidays he reverts to his favorite singers from the 30s and 40s. Everything looks good, so he leans against his kitchen island and takes a sip of hot mulled cider.

 _His_ kitchen island - operative word, _his_. Steve looks around and smiles. He’s standing in his apartment in Brooklyn. It’s a spacious two-bedroom on Lorimer in Greenpoint, a block from McCarren Park, and it’s perfect.

Steve moved out of the Tower and into this place at the beginning of December, just days after he got back from his goodwill trip with Tony. He’d mentioned the idea of getting his own place to Pepper in passing while they were prepping for the trip, and then when he’d texted her two weeks in, asking for advice on how to avoid killing Tony, she’d sent him this listing in response. He’d sat in his hotel room in Chiang Mai with his mouth open, looking at photos. The next day he’d texted Pepper back and asked her to set up the purchase.

Tony had been less than pleased when he’d found out about the move, but Steve stayed strong (and stubborn), and on the way home, he and Tony had had another Big Talk, this time about Steve’s role with the Avengers. It hadn’t been easy, but even now Steve can feel the weight lifting off his shoulders as he thinks about it.

“And have yourself a merry little Christmas now,” sings Steve as he gets out the rolls. He made them yesterday from scratch but he wants to heat them up for dinner. _His_ dinner. Just him.

This was yet another fight with Tony. Stark had wanted Steve to come to Christmas Eve dinner in his dining room in the Tower penthouse, with “the Avengers and friends” and the best gourmet holiday food that money can buy. But Steve had demurred, already planning out his own little classic Christmas Eve feast with turkey, stuffing, scalloped potatoes, roast vegetables, and apple pie for dessert. All the food he and his mom could never afford while he was growing up in a tenement just down the road from here during the Depression.

He’ll head over to the Tower tomorrow afternoon for Christmas Day festivities, bringing the presents for his friends that now sit under his Christmas tree, wrapped in shiny paper. There’s a present for Bucky there too, but Steve’s not sure when he’ll get to give it, assuming that Bucky is surely with his family for the holidays.

After this wildly hectic and demanding year, it’s lovely to hunker down by himself and wallow in holiday cheer. And if the thought crosses Steve’s mind that it’d be even better to share it with a special someone, he acknowledges it and lets it go. He looks at the matrioshka doll, sitting on his dining table, and sighs inwardly.

Steve and Bucky texted some while he was in Southeast Asia, but Steve didn’t push on it too hard. He’s firmly convinced that, as much as he really, really likes Bucky, that relationship is just not in the cards. Better to keep him as a friend and a colleague. A friendly colleague.

Steve didn’t see Bucky at all after the goodwill trip, partly because Steve was busy moving to Brooklyn and working out his new arrangement with Tony, but mostly because Bucky is still on medical leave, though Helen tells Steve that Bucky’s arm is almost completely healed.

Similarly, Steve knows that Bucky lives somewhere in this general neighborhood, but he hasn’t told Bucky he moved to Brooklyn and he hasn’t looked up Bucky’s address, partly because that seems a little stalkery but mostly because he’s convinced himself that there’s no point. Whatever date they set up will just get interrupted by lab accidents or giant alien blobs invading Chicago.

 _It’s just better this way,_ Steve tells himself, _leave it alone and regret what might have been._

The turkey, which was the smallest one Steve could find at his local grocery store, has maybe a little less than an hour to go, as do the stuffing and potatoes. He’s all ready for dinner, he’s got everything...except...

_Oh damn._

Steve doesn’t really need cranberry sauce - it’s a perfectly good meal without it. But there’s something about its sweet tartness that perfectly complements the other foods’ savory flavors. Plus it’ll taste amazing on the turkey sandwiches he’ll have as leftovers in the days to come. He sighs and heads to the door, grabbing his coat and boots.

It’s three blocks to the bodega. Steve knows it’ll be open because he was there a few days ago getting a breakfast burrito and talked to the owner, Miguel, for a few minutes. The air is chilly and the mid-afternoon sky is steel grey and it smells like snow. Steve would love to have a white Christmas but as a lifetime New Yorker he knows the odds of this are slim. He takes a deep breath of fresh air before he heads into the store.

Miguel and his son are behind the counter but they’re taking care of a couple of customers checking out, so Steve just waves and heads off down one of the aisles in search of his precious cranberry sauce. “Christmas Wrapping” is playing over the store PA, and Steve smiles. This song came out years ago while he was in the ice, but Nat introduced him to it a couple Christmases back and it never fails to cheer him up.

Steve finally finds the magic Ocean Spray on the end an aisle near the refrigerated cases, sitting in half a cardboard box. There are only two cans left, and Steve sighs with relief that he doesn’t have to go somewhere else. He reaches down for one of the cans, and his hand bumps into another hand grabbing the other can. It’s a hand that’s...gloved? No, covered in some shiny material. Steve stands upright to say sorry for jostling the other person, and then he sees who it is and his apology dies in his mouth.

It’s Bucky.

There’s a beat of silence and then Steve says, “Bucky!” at the same time Bucky says, “Steve!” Then there’s another few seconds of silence, through which “Christmas Wrapping” can still be heard overhead. The two men stare at each other in amazement.

“What are you doing here?” they finally say at the same time, and laugh.

“You first,” says Bucky, his eyes dancing. “What are you doing in Brooklyn?”

Steve looks him over for a second before answering. Bucky looks gorgeous - well, I mean, he’s always looked gorgeous but his recent experience has added a new shadow under those heavenly cheekbones and there are a few more crow’s feet around his blue-grey eyes than there used to be. They take him beyond gorgeous to almost ethereal. He’s bundled up in a dark blue puffer jacket and his long hair is tied back in a bun under a wine-colored beanie.

“Well,” Steve says, smiling crookedly, “I live about three blocks down the road now. On Lorimer, near the park. Moved into my own place earlier this month. Needed a change.”

He can’t stop staring at Bucky. He feels like he’s in a dream. Bucky apparently feels the same way because he keeps looking and looking at Steve, like he’s worried Steve will disappear at any moment.

“That’s awesome, Steve,” says Bucky. “I live right around the corner on Leonard. So we’re neighbors now! I’m so psyched.” He grins.

“But what are you doing here, on Christmas Eve?” queries Steve. “I thought you’d be with your family...” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Oh my _god_ , Steve, my family,” he says, shaking his head. “You saw them at the Tower right after the accident, just so many of them and there were _everywhere_. Then once I got out of Medical and came home someone was always here fussing over me...and then at Thanksgiving the whole extended clan was at my folks’ place in Bay Ridge and it was just too much.”

Bucky looks down at the floor and continues. “So I blew them off for tonight. Just needed to catch my breath and have a little Christmas by myself this year. I’ll see them tomorrow night. Or maybe Saturday.”

He looks back at Steve a little uncertainly, “Does that make me a giant asshole, Steve? I love my family, but...”

“Oh God, no,” says Steve fervently, cutting him off. He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand and says, a little sheepish, “I’m blowing off a five-star feast with Tony and the gang tonight because I wanted time to myself in my own place.”

At this juncture Steve hesitates for a moment, then decides to go for it. _What the hell._

“But I wouldn’t mind spending the evening with...with a really great person I’ve been trying to date all year,” Steve says. “If that person wouldn’t mind having Christmas by himself...with me.” He looks hopefully at Bucky.

Bucky exhales with relief and stares straight at Steve. “That sounds amazing, Steve. I thought you’d never fucking ask.” His face is glowing. Bucky holds his Ocean Spray up and they clink cans like they’re having a cheers before they head to the counter.

“So you forgot cranberries too, huh,” Steve says in an aside as they’re paying for their goods. “To go with your turkey.” Now he’s wondering how they’re going to eat two Christmas dinners.

Bucky shoulder-checks him playfully. The PA system is now playing “Fairytale of New York” and neither of them can stop smiling.

“Nah,” he says, voice low but resonant. “I actually made lasagna for something different but I had a last-minute craving for cranberry sauce, even though it doesn’t really go with lasagna.”

“Holy shit,” says Steve. “Lasagna with turkey and stuffing sounds delicious.” They say goodbye to Miguel and Miguel Jr. and head for the door. “Let’s go grab your food and head to my place. It’s a two-bedroom so we won’t be on top of each other.”

“As much as I love my little studio, and the idea of you being on top of me, that sounds like a plan,” Bucky murmurs. Steve’s breath catches a little in his throat as they leave the bodega. The sky has darkened a little and as Steve’s nose predicted earlier, it’s snowing lightly. Steve and Bucky look up at the sky and then at each other, delighted.

They start walking toward Bucky’s apartment. Ten paces up the sidewalk, Steve takes Bucky’s cranberry sauce and puts both cans in the big pockets of his barn jacket so he can grab Bucky’s left hand in his right. It feels different on his fingers and he lifts their hands up to look at the material.

“It’s a new lightweight titanium-polymer blend,” Bucky says matter-of-factly. “It’s just a sleeve that comes off. I’m basically all healed up but Tony and Helen have a theory that this will speed the process and minimize scarring from the lacerations.” He squeezes Steve’s hand and Steve feels a tingling in his palm.

“What the...” he starts but Bucky cuts him off. “It’s got a low-level electromagnetic current running through it from a battery pack,” Bucky says, grinning. “That’s supposed to help with the healing as well.”

“So you’re not quite bionic,” Steve kids. “I honestly wouldn’t mind having a bionic boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend, huh,” says Bucky, squeezing Steve’s hand again and bumping his shoulder. “What are the chances my... _boyfriend_...will get called tonight to join an emergency mission fighting giant robot ducks in Cairo?”

“Slim to none,” Steve replies. “Because I...I quit.” Bucky stops walking and turns to look at him, eyes wide. “I mean...I retired. Semi-retired. I might go on some missions next year, but never as the leader and no more undercover work. Most of my work will be training the younger Avengers. I had a huge long discussion with Tony about it when we got back from Asia and we worked it all out.”

“Oh wow, Steve that’s huge!” Bucky says, in wonder and disbelief. “I’m so happy for you. And for me. What are you gonna do now that you’re...retired?” They start walking again. Steve shrugs.

“There are some really good drawing and painting classes at Columbia,” he says, dropping his head. “I used to do commercial art in the old days. Thought I’d jump back into it.”

“If you need a model, I’m always available,” Bucky says, grinning.

“Are you? Are you available?” Now it’s Steve turn to tease. “What are the odds that _my_ boyfriend will be summoned to fly off tonight to fix problems at the Stark plant in East Siberia?” They reach a refurbished brick building and Bucky opens the outside door with a passcode so they can head inside to the lobby.

“Also slim to none,” answers Bucky, snuggling up to Steve as they bundle onto the elevator. “Because Tony is so relieved that I didn’t immediately quit or sue the shit out of him after the accident that he gave me a huge raise, a new title, and promised - in writing, mind you - that I’d never have to run off to fix his overseas plants with two hours’ notice.”

“Plus,” Bucky continues as the elevator dings for his floor and they walk off into the hallway and stop in front of Bucky’s door. “I’m on medical leave until January 15, and I intend to spend as much of that time as possible in...personal pursuits.”

Steve’s eyes blaze. “Are you calling me a pursuit,” he growls, pulling Bucky close to him.

“Well,” Bucky murmurs, cheeks pink, eyes shining. “We have been pursuing each other for a year now. I think that counts.” He tips his head upward a little and leans in, fastening his lips to Steve’s.

The kiss starts tender and very, very sweet, but soon it grows heated and Steve demands that Bucky open up for him, which he does willingly. They break it off when a timer goes off inside the apartment.

“Lasagna,” Bucky gasps as they finally pull apart. Steve goes back in for one more kiss with only a _little_ tongue before Bucky opens the door and they walk into his place to grab the food. Bucky quickly puts the lasagna pan in a large shallow box surrounded by dish towels and wedges a bottle of good Pinot Noir in one corner. Steve notes with gratification the Eiffel Tower statue, prominently displayed on Bucky’s little dining table.

As Bucky heads toward the bathroom, Steve calls out, “I’ve got an extra toothbrush.” Which makes Bucky turn around, blushing, and kiss Steve shyly on the lips.

They walk back out into the snow toward Steve’s apartment. It’s getting darker and people are already plugging in their holiday lights. Steve’s got the lasagna box tucked under one arm and his other arm wrapped around his boyfriend.

The evening spreads out before him, cozy and warm and exciting, and he feels almost drunk with anticipation and with the possibilities that lie ahead. He’s starting a new chapter of his life and he’s starting a new love, both after a crazy year that challenged him in every way. And while Steve is thrilled to be facing all these new beginnings, as they approach his home, he feels the snowflakes on his face and revels in the Christmas magic that brought his and Bucky’s year-long saga to a very happy ending.

**Author's Note:**

> There is not actually a bodega at the spot in Greenpoint where Steve and Bucky meet at the end, but there is in this world. 
> 
> Steve’s apartment in Greenpoint is where my sister used to live years ago, which I did on purpose as a shout-out to her. :-D
> 
> I made up all the medical sciencey stuff so apologies if it’s wrong or too way out-there!


End file.
